


Before Now

by littleboxesofstars



Category: IT (2017)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), I really wanna write more stenbrough, M/M, Nudity, just a lil practice in stan characterization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:19:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleboxesofstars/pseuds/littleboxesofstars
Summary: Looking down at Bill's sleeping form next to him has Stan feeling a little lost.





	Before Now

**Author's Note:**

> also posted to my tumblr @trash-the-tozier

Stan doesn't know what to do.

He's twenty-one now, and he's never been in a relationship. He's never had a crush, didn't recognize that fluttery feeling Ben talked about getting when looking at Beverly, even after the two had been together for years. He's never felt wistful for it either, thinking it was fine. Richie acted like an idiot around Eddie, all because of these stupid desires and infatuations, so when he thought about it, he could convince himself that he was better off.

Because of all of this, looking down at Bill's body in bed next to his own, thin and bare and near luminous among the rumpled bed sheets, had him feeling hopelessly lost. They hadn't agreed on doing this; one moment they were talking, and the next moment Bill's mouth was on his own, hot and hungry, and Stan couldn't stop kissing him back. Didn't want to. It wasn't the first time they'd fallen into bed together, taking off each other's clothes with needy fingers, and every time Stan found himself still awake for hours afterwards, unable to stop watching Bill, the way his eyelashes rested on his cheeks, all the smooth curves and sharp angles of his body.

It should worry him, and he knows that. He shouldn't even be awake, really. He shouldn't find Bill so enthralling. Bill shifts in his sleep, feeling Stan's warmth next to him and unconsciously nestling closer. Stan closes his eyes, finding he doesn't mind.

Bill stays for breakfast, also not for the first time, though it doesn't happen nearly as often as Bill staying the night does. They don't touch. They don't even really talk much, because Stan knows now how Bill likes his eggs and his coffee, and the silence doesn't need to be filled. It's comfortable, the quiet, and in it is when Stan realizes that he really is in trouble. But again, glancing at Bill, who is sitting across from him at the table and messing with his hair, his phone in his hand, Stan finds he doesn't mind.

He doesn't realize things are out of control until it's much too late. They're in bed, sweat cooling on their skin, the sheets haphazard and every which way, and Stan glances over. Bill is lying comfortably, unashamed to be naked in front of him, his gaze soft and unfocused as he breathes, his chest rising and falling gently. Stan's own chest clenches as Bill glances back at him, not smiling or frowning or saying anything, and Stan swallows. Bill's eyes flick to his lovebitten throat, watching the action.

"What is it?" He asks.

"I've never..." Stan doesn't know how to word this. He isn't even sure of what he's trying to say. "I don't think I've ever been... I mean, I love my parents, and all of you guys, so much, but I don't think I've ever been in love."

Bill doesn't respond for a long moment. His eyes never leave Stan's face, blinking a couple of times in consideration, and the smallest, sweetest smile grows on the corners of his lips.

"Me neither." He confesses, rolling onto his side so he's facing Stan, propping the side of his head on his hand. "I don't think I've ever... You know." He pauses for the shortest of seconds, adding, "Well... Before."

"Before?"

Bill is silent again. It's dark in the room, but Stan still knows the location of every freckle and mole from Bill's forehead to his navel, having traced their trail more than once with his lips. Now he traces them with his eyes, freezing somewhere on Bill's right shoulder when Bill speaks.

"Before now."

"Oh." Is all Stan can think to say, and he isn't even talking to Bill; upon hearing those words, all of his confusion suddenly makes sense, like the last piece of a puzzle turning when he'd been trying instead to shove it in place upside down. "Bill--"

Bill leans forward, half sitting up with the action, and kisses him. Stan kisses him back, hands finding Bill's shoulder and his hipbone, trying to bring him as close as he can. He wants to find the right words, the right way to describe how Bill causes his breath to get stuck in his throat, how wonderful it is to touch him, the way he feels when Bill sighs and moans his name, but he can't. Bill breaks the kiss and nestles his face into Stan's neck.

"Bill, I..." He tries again, Bill's lips warm and chaste at the junction of his neck and his shoulder.

"It's okay if you don't." Bill says quietly, kissing his skin.

"I do."

He wants to say more but Bill's lips are on his again, his hands finding both of Stan's, fingers entwining, squeezing tightly. It's so nice that it almost hurts, everything he's feeling now. Bill's body is firm and fervent against his, the rest of the world falling away, and all of a sudden, finding the right words isn't so important anymore.


End file.
